


A Million Times More

by MellytheHun



Series: Tumblr Sterek Prompts [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Fluff, Just Gross Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Romance, Schmoop, Sweet, The fluffiest fluff, Tumblr Prompt, fic prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 14:06:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11037720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellytheHun/pseuds/MellytheHun
Summary: Prompt: Imagine person A and person B cuddling, legs intertwined, while leaving little kisses and tracing hearts on each other’s skin.





	A Million Times More

Stiles presses back into the heat of Derek’s front, tries to fight the sweet smile that curls his lips at the feel of Derek’s nose against his neck. He can feel Derek breathe against him, how his chest expands against Stiles’ back, the way it swells his abdomen because every breath is so deep and so tranquil.

Derek’s arm is curled in front of him, his veiny hand with swirly knuckles is languidly painting an invisible picture on the freckled skin of his chest. Derek moves his legs against Stiles’ and the rasp of coarse hair is so intimate, so natural it gives Stiles pleasant chills.

“Are you drawing an anatomically correct heart on my skin?“

"That didn’t take you long to figure out,” Derek replies, his voice hoarse and deep with the gravel of sleep.

The sound is so endearing and it binds Stiles so close, so immediately, his throat locks up. He opens his eyes, stares at the lines engraved on his own palms and tries to breathe through the emotional onslaught.

The bed is comfortably hot and Derek’s skin and hair and breath make Stiles want to weep. And he’s not sure why.

"It never does,“ Stiles says, his own voice tired and quiet.

"Yours is fast," Derek observes.

"Yeah.“

"You don’t smell sad. But like you might cry.”

Stiles blinks at the wet in his eyes, flexes his toes against Derek’s feet distractedly and replies, “I didn’t know it would be like this.”

“That what would be like what?” Derek asks patiently.

” _This_ ,“ Stiles emphasizes, gripping onto Derek’s lazily dancing hand to ground himself, “I didn’t think… I thought it would be jagged, sharp… I thought you’d be gone in the morning.”

“Do you wish I had left?” Derek asks softly, unassuming and almost casual.

“I… No. No,” Stiles confirms, “No, I’m relieved. I’m unprepared, but… relieved.”

Derek shifts and Stiles is petrified for a brief second that Derek is going to try to turn him around so they can face each other. Stiles is feeling too raw for that - he's not ready. He's waited so long for this moment, for this shot with Derek and he's petrified that he might do something wrong - blink wrong, breathe wrong, smell wrong and it'll all go to Hell. Derek’s eyes make him too naked, too real.

But Derek only draws himself closer, breathes in deeply at the crook of Stiles’ neck and murmurs, “I’ve always wanted this. With you. I’ve always wanted to be this with you.”

Tender.

Serene.

“... are you in love with me?” Stiles asks, highly unsure.

His heart bounces out of place, makes his chest and face hot, makes his stomach weightless and bloodless.

He’s in a free fall.

Derek’s arm curls more tightly against him, his hand grasps with more strength around Stiles’ like he's scared Stiles may shoot up and run. Like it's a secret that’s been so deeply embedded in him, that's been there for a lifetime, a thousand lifetimes - and now it's being cut out.

"Yes,“ Derek whispers, tickling the delicate hairs at the base of Stiles’ neck.

Stiles lets out a long held breath and nods, trying to compute, trying to remember what the word "yes,” means, what his question was, what the answer means in this context and if he may have mistaken Derek’s answer for something it wasn’t because none of it feels real. It's too good to be real.

"I never thought… I never thought I could have this,“ Stiles admits tearfully, gripping at Derek’s hand, holding it so tight it might hurt, "... _do_ I have this?”

“Yeah,” Derek replies surely, “You can have this, if you want. If you’ll have me.”

Stiles draws Derek’s swirling knuckles up to his lips, a quiet tear falling onto the pillow. The scent of Derek is everywhere, like a masculine, sweet mist on the sheets. His lips are so full at the base of Stiles’ skull, his scruff brushes at the sensitive skin there - he's so present. And in so many more ways than one.

"I love you back. I love you back.“

Stiles feels Derek let out a shaking sigh in the shape of a smile. He kisses the back of Stiles’ neck, moving in a way that allows the sunbeams through the French windows to pool on the bed and dance across them.

“ _Thank God_ ,” is what Stiles thinks he hears Derek whisper.

"I love you, I love you,” Stiles confesses again and again, until Derek is turning him over and kissing him breathless, wet tracks on his scruffy cheeks and a prayer to keep Stiles in the pressure of his kiss.

Derek climbs on top of him, holds his hands by either side of his head, every bare inch of him draped over Stiles and still unsure of their welcome. His polychromatic eyes gaze into Stiles’ with an honesty and fondness so genuine, Stiles forgets who he is for a moment. He thinks maybe for a moment that he is a timeless art piece hanging on a wall, or a sunrise through a mountain range or maybe the moon and a wolf is staring up at him, star-crossed and adoring. Loving him and mourning him and wanting him and glimpsing eternity for a moment so swift, it’s hardly happened. Glimpsing it so quickly that it's not seen, but it's felt.

“I love you,” Derek says, looking Stiles in his round, glassy eyes.

Stiles laughs wetly, another tear slipping out from the corner of his eye. He twines their fingers and arches his neck, reaching up to kiss Derek’s lips again and a hundred times, a thousand times, a million times more.


End file.
